To Dance
by MajorSamanthaCarter
Summary: A drabble-like response to the season finale. MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT! Mostly pure soppy fluff.
1. 1

She lay there feeling the pain of the bullet, sensing every minute movement that sent blurry shocks of pain through her body. Her world was on fire, and freezing cold at the same time. Through the haze, she saw Rick, heard his words reaching her ears distantly as if through a long tunnel.

"Kate! No Kate... Shh..."

Her thoughts were strangely distant and she was finding it hard to remember why she was here. The small logical part of her brain that was still functioning properly was crying out that she'd been shot, that she should do something, that she needed to stay awake... but it was so hard to hear.

"Kate, please, stay with me Kate. Don't leave me, please..."

Why did he keep saying her name? Was something wrong? Everything was distant now, and the blackness at the edges of her vision was starting to creep into Rick's face. What was happening..?

"Stay with me, ok?"

Was she meant to be going somewhere? Something important... why couldn't she think straight?

"Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate..."

Was that Castle? Of course it was... she was silly. She knew he loved her, of course he loved her. Didn't he know that she knew? Wasn't it obvious?

She had to remember... something... something important... but it was ok. Rick was holding her – everything would be alright. And she was so, so tired... She closed her eyes and let the blackness consume her.

**A**/**N** cue three drabbles of pure fluff. Exams are over and the creative juices are flowing like mad! :D more to come...


	2. 2

She opened her eyes to a very white, very blurry world. Through the haze of medication she thought she remembered something. Something had happened. Montgomery was dead! No, wait, she knew that... they had been at his funeral, and something had happened. What was it? It was so hard to remember...

She forced her vision to sharpen on the figure slumped by the side of her bed. Rick Castle was fast asleep, head on his chest, with a string of dribble running down the left side of his chin. She thought he'd never looked so cute.

That reminded her... She'd been shot. And he'd said something. Something important...

Oh gosh. He'd said he loved her.

She looked at him again, considering. As she watched, her twitched a little in his sleep, and some drool left his chin and made a dark stain on his top. She almost giggled; he was just so... comical. And adorable. And handsome. And...

How long had she known that he loved her, and she him? How long had they been dancing around each other? It felt like forever. She realised she _did_ love him, and had for a long time. Denial is a powerful thing.

But he was still here, and that was what mattered. Time enough for talking (and other things) later. For now, sleep.

"I love you too," she whispered in a croaky, barely audible voice as she let herself slip back into that lovely, dreamless, medication-induced sleep. She knew he would be there when she woke up. And strangely, she felt safer with him watching over her than if she'd had a whole squad of cops.

**A/N** yes, these are awful and cliché but I don't care. You have to deal with them, not me. :P


	3. 3

Rick Castle grimaced as he snorted himself awake, wiping the drool off his chin.

"Kate? Did you say something?

He had thought he had heard something... but no. Probably just dreaming. He looked at Kate, smiling slightly in her sleep, and tenderly brushed a lock of her hair from her forehead. She was so beautiful. He wondered idly if she had heard him, just before she lost consciousness. These last few days had been the worst of his life, spending every day stalking the precinct and the hospital in turns, waiting for news as to whether they had caught the sniper yet, or news about whether Beckett would be ok. But, finally, the doctors were saying she would be ok, and should wake up soon.

Part of him hoped that she hadn't heard those words, those three seemingly inconsequential words that might change their lives, because confronting the truth had to be harder than living a lie. But a larger part of him wished with all his might that she _had_ heard, and that when she woke up, things would change. Maybe, just maybe, they could come out of those dreamy, denial-filled worlds they had been living in the past few years. Maybe they could stop dancing that old dance where they always looked but never touched, and start a new dance.

One way or another, she _would_ know. Because he knew that he had to at least try, take the risk and maybe put their relationship on the line, because he _could not_ go through this again without knowing, and without trying.

But talking could wait. For now, he needed to go home, shower, and change his shirt. He needed sleep. As he stood to leave, he quickly looked to make sure there was no one else around before brushing his lips to her forehead.

"I love you."

**A/N** How are you holding up over there? Not drowning in the soppy fluffiness? ."


	4. 4

He spared a fleeting thought for Josh as he left the room. A quick analysis, a quick conclusion.

"To hell with Josh."

**A/N** I said there would be three. I lied. But I don't think this classifies as literature (well, even less than the other ones). No more from me, for now. ;)

:) MSC


End file.
